Page 11 of The Chef and the Countess

“Thank you.” Celia wiped her nose and hand, then tucked the handkerchief under the sleeve of her wool gown.

“Have you brought up any yellow or green sputum? Are you coughing steadily?” He pulled a stethoscope out of his bag. Celia knew what it was as she had seen it used on Carlton enough.

“No to both.”

“That is good. Your sickness has not settled into your chest. We want to avoid that. Please unbutton your collar.”

Celia did, and the doctor breathed on the chest piece, warming it before placing it against her exposed skin.

He listened. “Breathe deeply. That’s it. Inhale, hold it. Now exhale. Cough for me. Well done.” The doctor sat upright. “You have caught a cold or chill, as we call it, probably from your prolonged exposure to inclement weather and your less-than-perfect traveling conditions. If treated correctly, this infection will disappear in less than seven days.” He felt her forehead. “Perhaps a slight fever. Body aches?”

“Here and there,” Celia replied. “I also feel nauseated. That started this morning. My eyesight was blurred, although not so much now.”

The doctor leaned in and looked into her eyes. “Any balance trouble? Confusion?”

“A little. But I feel strange, beyond the chill.”

“Please open your mouth.”

Celia did, and the doctor leaned in to examine her throat.

He stood upright. “Bed rest. You must stay hydrated with plenty of fluids. I believe you are over the worst of it. I predict you will feel much better in three days. I will stop by the day after tomorrow. I would suggest you remove your gown and any undergarments. You must be comfortable.”

“Thank you, Doctor.”

With a nod, he packed up his case and departed. Well, Celia was right. She had caught a chill. She felt worse the day after her defiant exit from Darrington’s dining room. For four days after that, she hardly ventured from her room. The sneezing had been much worse then. With great effort, she stood, unbuttoned her wool gown, and undressed down to her chemise. Celia had no idea what garments her loathsome cousin had stuffed in the case. She opened it to find her clothes mashed into balls. Digging through, she discovered her flannel nightgown, pulled it over her head, and climbed into bed, pulling the covers over her.

Another knock at the door. “It’s Enya.”

“Come in.”

The waitress entered with a tray and placed it on the table next to Celia. “A pitcher of water and a glass. You must drink as much as possible. Next door is a water closet for your use. Wrapped in the parchment paper are ginger biscuits if you get hungry. The doctor said you’re to be left alone for the rest of the night.” Enya opened the wardrobe and brought forth a wool blanket. After straightening the covers, Enya laid the blanket over the quilt. “There now. All cozy. Are you warm enough? I can bring another quilt.”

Celia smiled. “You have all been so kind. I am warm enough, thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Enya turned the gas light to almost complete darkness, and left her alone.

The tears that threatened to spill earlier finally trickled down her flushed cheeks. Celia allowed it, but only for tonight. She would do all she could to recover and work for Mr. Hallahan and, as she did, she’d find out about her friends and try to discover her aunt’s location. She would also write to the new Earl of Winterwood and his solicitor. Not all was lost.

Not when she had a tall, handsome guardian angel with gorgeous eyes and broad shoulders watching over her.

With a sigh, Celia wiped her eyes and pulled the blankets to her chin. All she could hope for tonight were more pleasant dreams of Liam Hallahan.